Pregnant Mistress Can't Get Away

4. STELLA

I hesitate.

It’s the last thing I want to do but when he leans in a bit closer and presses his cheek to mine, I know that the longer I hold back, the longer he’s going to wait.

So I just look up and meet his gaze head-on, not really afraid but giving him the satisfaction that I am.

His eyes are dark and dangerous as they watch me closely and the darkness inside him leaks out in waves, wrapping itself around my skin, leaving traces of it on my body and making me wish that he was different.

It’s like he can sense my emotions because he suddenly smiles. It’s the smile that tells me he enjoys this. He likes playing this game with me because it makes him feel he’s in control, that he has some power over me and that no one can stop him.

“You’re hiding something from me,” he says and I instantly think about the pregnancy result in my purse. My eyes go a little wide without even knowing. But he catches the slight shift in my expression like always.

How do I know? Because the next moment he grabs hold of my arms and brings me close to him until our bodies are pressed together. “You are, aren’t you?”

“No!” I shake my head, because lying to him comes almost naturally, maybe because I already know the consequences of telling him the truth. I know he’s going to flip out. I know he’s going to ask me to get rid of the baby, because that’s the only choice I have left and that’s the only thing he will ever accept.

Because to him, I am nothing but his mistress and his w***e.

I pretend to be annoyed and yank my wrist away from him. “I’m not. And can you please stop acting like you care?”

His eyes turn even darker but he doesn’t move as he watches me closely, his eyes roaming all over me.

I try my best to make it seem like I don’t care about his presence, even though I feel like my body is on fire just by having him stand this close to me, his eyes disrobing me with each passing moment.

I quickly pick up the towel on the side table and wrap it around myself.

I walk past him out the door and toward the bedroom.

Hot, stinging tears burn the back of my eyes but I hold them back, I always do. Because the last thing I want to do is make him think I’m weak.

Because if I give him an inch, he’ll take a mile and he’ll do it with pleasure.

I try not to flinch when he suddenly comes up from behind me and wraps his fingers around my hips and squeezes me so tight that I have no choice but to feel his hard bulge against the curve of my ass.

I try to ignore it and walk away from him, but he doesn’t like that and the next moment he has me pinned up against the wall.

He places a palm by the side of my head and looks into my eyes. I don’t know what it is with his gaze that makes it seem like I can never look away from him, never escape him.

“What are you hiding, Stella? Is there someone else?”

And there he goes with his paranoia again.

It’s so tiring, really.

I turn to face him and find myself looking right at him. “So what if there is?”

He grabs me by my throat and shoves me up against the wall. “Are you f*****g around with other men?”

“You don’t deserve to know the answer to that,” I grit out.

“Yes, I f*****g do,” he responds and I know that it’s useless to argue with him right now because he’s not going to give up until I give him a clear answer. “Do you have another man, Stella? Are you f*****g around behind my back? Are you letting someone else touch you the way I do? Answer me!”

“Why does it matter what I do in your absence? You get a fair share of my time, don’t you?”

He doesn’t respond and his hand around my throat tightens a little and I feel my lips begin to tremble, the tears begin to build and then fall as he presses himself closer to me.

“Because you’re my w***e, aren’t you, baby doll? And a w***e should know her place.”

He releases me then, shoving me back and away from him. He wipes his palm against the front of his suit as if he just got it dirty from touching me.

He starts to walk away but suddenly stops, turns to face me and I’m startled at how calm his demeanor has become. He doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t have to.

The way his eyes look at me with nothing but anger and resentment says it all.

“Get in the bed,” he finally says. “On your hands and knees.”

And that’s it.

There is no way to get out of this, there is no way for me to escape his wrath.

The next thing I know I find myself on the bed and my knees are touching the sheets and the towel has been pulled from my body.

I try not to feel too scared as the next few seconds pass and his naked body covers mine, his weight pressing into me.

He places his palm between my shoulder blades and pushes down. He leans down close to my ear, his warm breath blowing against my cheek.

“You’re such a beautiful slut. The one with a sharp tongue but beautiful nonetheless.”

He enters me, hard, thrusting all the way in, not even giving me a chance to prepare.

I almost lose my breath as his body wraps around mine and the weight of his thrust pushes my upper body down against the mattress, my breasts rubbing against it roughly.

I let out a cry of pain but it just turns him on. I try my best to breathe through the pain as he pushes in and out of me and all I can do is close my eyes and focus on not giving in, on not feeling what he’s trying so hard to make me feel.

“You’re so wet, so tight and perfect and it’s all mine, all f*****g mine. Nobody gets to f**k this p***y but me.”

His movements are hard and fast and soon my knees begin to slip on the sheets. I struggle to keep my body still but he pulls me up and against his chest by the hair, wrapping his palm around my throat.

He holds me in place like that and f***s me so hard, it’s almost too much for my body to handle.

My muscles burn with pain and it hurts.

It hurts so bad that I don’t know what to do with myself.

It doesn’t take him long to find release inside of me, and when he finally does, I find myself wishing that it was already over.

But it isn’t. It isn’t over, because this isn’t the first time and I know it isn’t going to be the last.

My breathing is hard and my eyes are burning with unshed tears that refuse to fall as he slowly pulls out and pushes me down onto the bed, my face smothering the sheets.

The mattress dips behind me and he comes to sit by the side of the bed, facing me.

I look up to find him watching me, a smile on his lips. My gaze drops to the bulge in front of his crotch. He’s still hard.

He touches my cheek.

I flinch at the contact and look up to meet his eyes.

I watch as his thumb comes down and slowly traces the outline of my lower lip before his touch starts to trail lower until it reaches the hollow of my neck and stops there.

“I want you to take me in your mouth now. Make it feel good.”